


Truth or Dare?

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, drinking game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:43:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle and Gold get a bit of a surprise after a night of heavy drinking. One-shot based on prompts for my second Rumbelleversary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“All right,” Belle said, as she poured another round of shots for her and the pawn broker across from her. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

If she were more sober, she probably would have questioned that she was sitting across from Mr. Gold in a dive bar playing stupid drinking games and trying to stay upright on her stool. Luckily, she was completely off her ass.

“Truth,” he slurred out. She really would have thought he could hold his liquor better, to be honest, but she was actually enjoying what a lightweight he was. “’m not gonna let you get the best of me again, dearie.”

She suppressed a chuckle after that, his last “dare” had involved placing a crank call to the sheriff’s station and calling in a robbery over the high priced lasagna. The sheriff had been less than amused, and Belle wasn’t entirely sure how they’d managed to avoid being taken into the station. In a larger town, they’d both be in lock-up by now.

 _Truth_  was hardly a safer answer, anyway. As the night had worn on, his ability to lie had flown out the window.

“When was your last orgasm?” she asked him triumphantly, tossing back her shot and waiting for his answer.

He sputtered for a moment before taking his own drink.

“This morning in the shower,” he finally said.

“And what were you thinking about?” she asked him.

“Not your turn,” he replied in a sing-song voice. “Truth or dare?”

She pondered for a little bit as he poured the drinks.

“Dare.”

Mr. Gold simply raised an eyebrow, and Belle knew she was going to be in for a long night.

* * *

The first thing Belle was aware of was a pressing need to pee.

The second was the raging headache and cotton mouth that reminded her that getting blackout drunk with Mr. Gold might not have been her brightest idea. Oh, God. Mr. Gold. What the hell had she been thinking? It was sort of an open secret around town that he had a little bit of a crush on her, though most people weren’t aware of her own slightly more than friendly feelings for him.

What had she thought was going to happen? It was just luck she hadn’t slept with him. At least, she didn’t  _think_  she had…when had he left, anyway? She didn’t really remember.

Against her better judgment, she cracked her eyes open to let in the early afternoon light and instantly regretted it. He was still there, in her bed…and she wasn’t wearing any underpants.

She had no idea what to do, so instead she just rolled over and threw up in the trashbin next to her bed.

The noise awoke her bed partner, who made a noise that was somewhere between a shriek and a groan as he realized what the hell was going on.

“Miss French?” he said, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Yeah?” she said, flinging herself back down into the pillows and covering her face with her hands to keep the light from making her head hurt worse.

“We didn’t…” he stumbled over his words. “Did we?

The way his voice trailed off, Belle knew exactly what he meant, she just didn’t have an answer for him.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, running her hand down her body and checking herself between her legs as surreptitiously as she could. She was definitely moist – damp, even – but all that meant was that she’d been aroused the previous evening.

“You don’t seem to have any marks,” he said, and she felt him move the blanket for a moment. “I don’t, either.”

That piqued her interest a bit.

“Should I have marks?” she asked, looking out from behind her fingers. His drunken honesty seemed to have worn off, though, and instead of answering he just blushed and pulled the sheets up higher. Well, that was certainly interesting.

“Are you wearing anything?” he asked her instead.

“I’m not,” she admitted. No sense in lying about that. “You?”

“I have my boxers on…but that doesn’t mean much.”

“I’m not having this conversation while only one of us is wearing any underwear,” she grumbled.

“Do you want me to take them off?”

She would have scowled at him if she weren’t already scowling.

“Can you toss me the nightgown off the dresser over there?”

That he obliged her in and she slid it over her head before sitting up a little. She didn’t  _seem_  to have any of the marks he’d mentioned as far as she could see, so there was that.

“I hate to ask this,” he muttered. “But…are you on any birth control?”

“I take the pill,” she replied, figuring she owed him at least that much. “You don’t…I mean…anything I should get tested for?”

“No,” he said, looking for all the world like he wanted to curl up in a hole and die. “You?”

She shook her head, instantly regretting it.

“I had to get a blood test to volunteer at the hospital,” she muttered. “Haven’t been with anyone since.”

“Oh,” he said with a little sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

“I need a shower,” she said finally.

“I guess I should be going home, then,” he replied, climbing out of the bed and searching for his pants.

“You can stay and shower,” she offered. “I’d hate for people to catch you on your walk of shame.”

He smiled a little at her offer and nodded.

“I’ll make breakfast, if you like.”

She nodded, breakfast sounding great since whatever had been in her stomach was now next to her bed.

“There’s food in the fridge,” she said, trying hard to maintain her dignity as she slid out of bed and made her way to the shower. She glanced back at him to find him looking pale and staring intently in the area of her ass where it was barely covered by the nightgown.

“I’ll only be a second,” she said and he barely nodded.

She wasn’t really sure what the hell that had been about. He’d been fine until she went to the bathroom. Well, whatever. It wasn’t too late to salvage whatever was left of her dignity and their friendship.

Belle stripped down and turned the water on, letting it warm up before she climbed in. It wasn’t until she glanced back in the mirror that she realized what had caught his attention as she had walked. On the inside of her right thigh just where it would have been visible beneath the hem of her nightgown was a hickey.

Apparently Mr. Gold was just full of surprises, wasn’t he?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked: did Belle and Gold ever get to have a fun night they actually remember?
> 
> Yes they did!

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Mr. Gold said as Belle pushed him against the wall leading to the bathroom of the bar. “People are going to start getting the wrong idea. Or the right one.”

“Oh shut up, Gold,” Belle replied, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his neck. “I’m  _ very _ drunk.”

“You are not,” he said, sliding his hands under her shirt and around her back. “I think I’m quite familiar with what you look like when you’re drunk by now.”

It was true. Since the first night they’d drunkenly gone back to her place, they’d repeated the encounter a few other times and at this point it was probably safe to call it an affair. It was pretty much all over town by now, but as they usually met at the bar so far the general consensus of the town was that Belle really needed to get her drinking under control. She didn’t really care, though. It was a complicated little ritual between them to meet at the bar, play some stupid game or another, and go back to her place. It was an easy, pleasing arrangement so far.

“I’m absolutely shitfaced,” she replied. “And the gentlemanly thing to do would be to walk me home and put me to bed.”

She’d had three cocktails in two hours and he knew it. She was tipsy but still in full control of her faculties as he led her out into the night. She liked the way he almost blushed when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard in her living room, and the way he always seemed desperate to please her (and only her) when he was in her bed.

It was a little disappointing she didn’t remember the first night, but now she had a pretty good idea of what had happened from the way he was always happy to go down on her for ages (solving the mystery of the thigh hickey) just to watch her come undone over and over again until she was practically begging him to fuck her. It was a pretty satisfying arrangement all around.

“You should buy me dinner,” she said as they lay in bed that night both thoroughly spent.

“Oh really?” he replied, yawning and nuzzling into her hair. “And why should I do that?”

“Because you want to see a lot more of me,” she said cheekily. “And besides, I put out.”

“Very true,” he said with a wicked grin. “But isn’t there a saying about buying cows when you’re already getting their milk?”

She smacked him across the face with a pillow, but couldn’t even pretend to be angry as she laughed at his awful joke and soon enough the playful scuffle had turned into drowsy cuddles as she settled back against him.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked, pulling her closer.

“Surprise me,” she replied. “I like surprises.”

He nodded and yawned, and soon enough she felt him relax next to her in the bed. It was a strange arrangement, but it was working for them. And she could stand a free meal, at any rate.


End file.
